When I wrote this e.g. a couple of minutes ago, I meant it to be a one-shot on Roran finding a dragon egg - and the events that would then happen. it hasn't been checked by a beta so it's not very good but if you want me to continue with the story please review and tell me so (hint,hint) I'd need a good beta to help with ideas aswell so if anyone out there would like me to continue and would be happy to help send me a email or a pm. I'm kind of eager to go a bit further with this story - but I don't really know to begin. I'm worried that it will turn into one of those long-winded and boring 'this-is-how-I-think-the-3rd-book-will-be-like' stories. So please R&R with happy feedback and tell me if it's worth continuing or not. I'm just babbling on about the same stuff now so I better shut up.

Thanks heaps

dappledsunlight

Roran's Discovery

Roran stroked the fiery-green egg. The fact he found the egg for The Varden was wonderful – it gave Alagaesia a chance at freedom and hope, two things that were in rather short supply lately.

It had seemed the Galbatorix had attempted to destroy the egg after the quest for another Rider had become impossible – what with The Varden attacking the egg carriers. So here he had found it left in a field – with obvious attempts at destruction, but by a rudimentary magician. He'd got someone far too weak to do the job.

Roran was envisioning the glory of handing Nasuada the egg when he heard a squeaking sound – and the egg started vibrating. He dropped it and quickly backed away. Maybe the magic was intended to destroy it from within; Roran had no idea what the usual activities of an egg were – he'd only discovered that magic and dragons actually existed two months earlier.

If only Eragon was here he thought He would know what to do. Roran was annoyed that his cousin disappeared to rejoin the elves – even though he knew he had to. Sighing he wished that it hadn't been him to find the egg but someone a whole lot more knowledgeable.

Another squeak pierced the night. Glaring venomously at the egg Roran cursed his bad luck again to find it when it so obviously needed special attention – and knowledge. It quieted, peeping whenever Roran grew drowsy. So now it was punishing him for his incompetence then was it?

He was fed up but curious. Where was this going to lead to? It didn't seem to be dieing but yet again he reminded himself that he knew nothing on the subject.

He warily approached it and picked it up – maybe if he stroked the egg, it would be soothed. It gave one mighty squeak and then fell silent. Roran waited for another squeak for over 10 minutes but nothing happened. Maybe it had died, he thought with dread. Well if it had there was no point stroking it anymore. He placed it sadly onto the grass by the fire, watching the flames flickering light skip across its surface.

It began to rock.

So it was alive! Roran had never felt happier – he'd become strangely attached to the egg.

It's rocking became more and more violent it emitted a high-pitched squeal. Faster and faster it spun; louder and louder became the squeaks. With an oath Roran stood – ready to throw it into the darkness.

It stopped.

Slowly it rolled, over and over, towards Roran. He was afraid - what had he done now?

It reached his feet and rolled to a halt. Suddenly it cracked and a spider-web of lines flowed across the eggs surface. It was hatching!

Roran recoiled in shock – it can't be – the egg had chosen him! The pieces toppled apart and a small strangely angled body pushed the shell away from itself.

There sitting in front of the glowing fire was a vivid green dragon hatchling, licking itself clean of the membrane that had encased it.

He watched in awe as the hatchling stretched out its wings which were far larger than its body and stared at him curiously. Roran kept still – it could attack him or burn him with its fiery breath. He remembered Eragon mentioning that the last dragon was a male, so it was a he - not an it. The dragon – he – began to explore his surroundings; he was very interested in the fire burning beside him. His triangular head swung from side to side as he followed the flames flickering dance. Roran noted his white fangs – which were scarily sharp and his claws – white also – that were slightly serrated.

Roran reached out and the little dragon nibbled his shirt sleeve. Roran grinned and went to pat it on the head but as soon as his flesh touched the dragons bright green scales a searing pain engulfed his body.

Roran didn't even have strength to scream so he cried silently in his head. AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!! It seemed to last forever but slowly and surely the pain subsided and warmth seeped back into his limbs. He lay there shivering and mentally cursing the dragon. Pushing himself up he looked down at his left hand – the one he had touched the dragon with. It was numb, completely paralyzed and bearing the same silvery mark as his cousins.

I'm a dragon rider! It sounded absurd but it was the only rational answer that Roran could think of. He would become a legend! Of course he would help the Varden and his cousin in their quest to overthrow Galbatorix; it was the only right thing to do.

An alien consciousness brushed his mind - like when Eragon did at the great battle. He's trying to communicate with me! Roran pushed at his conscious and felt it emit an overwhelming feeling of curiosity. So he's curious too! It was nice to have someone who felt like you felt – especially in the present dark times.

Roran lay down.

It was time to sleep, time to ponder over the night's events. As he drifted off to sleep he felt the dragon snuggle against his belly.

My dragon…

Terrible ending I know ... so please tell me whether its worth it or not... thanks...